Friction
by AdamaGirl
Summary: Timeline: Season 2, set during and after the episode Home: Part 2. Everyone has a Kobol story, and this is my take on what happened between the Parents (and the Kids) when the cameras weren't looking!


_**Disclosure: I do not own BSG, or any of its characters, yet they live on in my heart. SO SAY WE ALL!**_

KOBOL

Laura Roslin shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the less than ideal sleeping accommodations causing her to long for the makeshift bed she had on Colonial One. A small tear in the tarp sheltering them, allowed for the occasional plunk of rainwater to fall on her forehead.

"Can't sleep?"

"You too?"

Commander Adama rolled to his side, and chuckled softly. "I never could, before an op," he replied, while speaking of the coming final leg of their group's search for the Tomb of Athena. When another drip of water fell on Roslin, hitting her in the eye, Adama openly laughed. "I guess I don't have to ask what's keeping you up."

Laura considered his words, then joined in on the amusement of the situation. It felt strange, but nice to share a light moment with the man opposite her. "It brings new meaning to the term, water bed."

The leaders continued to laugh together in the dark. Bill stopped first, placing a hand to his chest. The surgical scar was still fresh, and the damage from the Boomer's gun, had not yet fully healed. "It's good to hear you laugh, Madam President."

"Same here, Commander." Inside her sleeping bag, Laura turned to face him. "Though I must say I didn't think you could."

"Really? I laugh quite a bit, actually."

She hummed audibly, then put her eyes on the man before her. Light from their campfire played upon Bill's profile as he laid on his back, offering her views of deep creases and laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. With his hands together and upon his chest outside of his sleeping bag, he seemed contented. Smiling to herself, Laura made a mental note to pay closer attention to his moods, and perhaps test them a bit in the future.

Laura had a few good tales of the Quorum in mind, that she could share with him, and was about to tell one when suddenly another drip of water fell. This time it came about hitting her ear.

Despite her good natured reaction, Bill could have sworn he saw the woman shiver. Their group's fire offered only so much warmth, and the Colonial-issue sleeping bags did little more. He sat up, and reached across the narrow divide that separated them, to touch her exposed hand and sleeved arm. Finding her icy cold to the touch, Bill grew concerned.

The woman never seemed to complain. He generally admired that about her, but right now it was starting to piss him off.

"You're shaking."

"I'm okay. It'll pass."

Bill snorted. "You shouldn't be cold."

Laura sighed. "Neither should you."

Bill caught her meaning. "Well, cancer beats gunshot wounds!"

Both stared at each other in silence, shocked at the sound of the commander's sharply worded pronouncement. It was said just loud enough to stir the slumbers of the rest of the camp. Thankfully, no one roused fully to wake and hear what was said next.

"I assume you know everything," Laura said as she heaved herself into a sitting position, crossing her arms. The very fact that William Adama, avowed atheist, was here on the Gods' own Kobol, stating his belief in her and what she was doing, spoke volumes. She imagined he'd also threatened Dr. Cottle with the airlock, regarding knowledge of her medical status.

"Yes, of course," replied Bill. "But now is not the time to discuss your condition, agreed?"

"Agreed."

"I think you should share my sleeping bag with me."

Laura glared at him in shocked disbelief. "You what?!"

"For warmth," Bill clarified.

"Never."

"Fine. Let the President of the Twelve Colonies freeze her ass off and die. Then Gaius Baltar will take over, and we'll all be screwed."

Laura opened her mouth to let him have it, but then thought better of her words. If they were to keep up their burgeoning truce, then she'd have to be as diplomatic as possible. But first things were first. "Technically, I'm not the president."

Bill frowned. "And for that I'm sorry."

She saw the hurt on his face, and knew he meant it. "I hardly think I'm going to freeze to death. You don't have to worry so much. It's just a little rain. I actually was much colder last night."

It was then that Laura's body betrayed her, setting forth a small and pathetic string of sneezes that only emphasized her true discomfort.

"You can't risk getting sick, Laura," Bill told her matter-of-fact. "The fleet can't afford it, and I won't let you."

She gave the commander a side-long glance while watching him begin to move about their shelter. He was very much on a mission, sizing things up at the moment, and the notion both intrigued and infuriated her.

"You _had_ to be a Scout as a kid."

"And if I was?"

"Then you'd know that the suggested method of avoiding hypothermia is body heat. Snuggling up with someone."

Bill had her there, and she knew it. Resigned to the fact, Laura put her glasses on and looked out at the sleeping camp. "Surely there's someone else I could bunk with."

"Not with one of my marines," he replied with a grunt. "I've got them all on duty keeping watch for Centurions."

Laura pursed her lips. "Then how about–"

"The future family?" Bill answered her question before she could finish, with one of his own. He was speaking of Sharon and Helo, who were already cuddled up with each other. "Good luck there. The only thing getting between them tonight is that so-called baby she's carrying."

Following Laura's eyes, Bill focused in on Zarek and Meier. Both of whom, lay off in the distance, snoring loudly. "And I would hope you're not seriously entertaining the idea of either one of those pricks."

"No, of course not."

"Good."

Laura turned to watch as Bill began unzipping his sleeping bag, opening it flat. When he began doing the same with hers, and invading her personal space in the process, her irritation notched up again. "Just what are you doing?"

"Gonna zip our bags together." With little effort, Bill pulled Laura, along with her bedding, over to his own. Mating the appropriate sides of the metal closures to each other, he tested the zipper pull and found it to be satisfactory. "This will make one nice big sleeper, for the two of us."

"Bill."

"Laura."

She winced. Damn, but she liked how he said her first name. It made it hard to be mad at him.

"I could just go ask Captain Apollo."

"You could," Bill agreed. He was on his knees now, zipping the bed the rest of the way together, and smoothing out any wrinkles in the fabric. "But I'm sure you've noticed the fact that my son has little to no body fat on him. I doubt if he'd keep you very warm."

Laura choked on a ball of giggles that threatened to spill from deep within her. The younger Adama was indeed fit, much more so than his father, but she doubted that was a plausible excuse for ruling him out. Still, Laura played along. "And Lieutenant Thrace?"

Bill sighed. "Starbuck has mother issues."

Laura sighed too. She'd noticed it in the few times they'd been together alone. The spontaneous hug they'd shared during the assault on the Cylon tillium mine... when she asked the girl help her retrieve the arrow... relaying news of survivors back on Caprica... At times, Kara had been open and willing to share, anything and everything. And in others, she was as guarded as her commanding officer. It was no wonder Bill thought of her as his daughter. They were so much alike.

"You're right. It would be too much to ask," Laura said in agreement.

"So that leaves Tyrol, and your man, Mr. Keikeya."

The thought of snuggling up with either the Chief or Billy, made the dam break for her. Letting go, Laura giggled openly and loudly, to the point that tears streamed down her face. "I wonder, who would melt first from embarrassment?" she asked once finding her voice again.

"Chief's a military man. He'd put up a good fight before caving, doing the right thing for the cause. My money's on Keikeya. You shoulda seen him on the Raptor during entry. Poor kid lost his lunch as soon as he stepped on terra firma," Bill said with a wide grin that Laura refused to look at. "So? Are you ready for bed, Ms. Roslin?"

Resigned, Laura's shoulders slumped a bit as she removed her glasses and put them aside for safekeeping. "I suppose."

"Good. Now take off your boots."

"Why? My feet are warmer this way, and I thought that's what this little exercise was all about."

"It is," Bill assured her. "You'll see."

Laura raised a eyebrow as she watched Bill begin unbuttoning the jacket of his digital grey camouflage. Within seconds he was down to his tanks and well muscled arms. "You're stripping?!" she asked incredulously, and a little too loud.

"Shh," he whispered for effect, while balling up his jacket and motioning for her to use it as a pillow. "You'll wake the kids."

"But–"

"I'm just taking off a little bit. Skin-to-skin is the best method for this, as I'm sure you already know. But I doubt either of us really wants that. So, this is the next alternative. I suggest you do the same. That is, if you have anything else under that wet shell of yours."

"I do."

"Good." Standing on his knees, hands on his hips, Bill watched as she took her sweet time shedding her jacket and two layers of outer shirts before getting down to a single light blue t-shirt. He tried not noticing that the thin fabric hugged her in all the right places, but was unsuccessful. "Now lay down and try to relax."

Glaring at him, Laura did as instructed, while noting to herself that the man remained fully clothed from the waist down, just as she too, remained clad in her own serviceable cargo pants. Still, Adama's demand had been the same words a boy she'd liked in high school had used on her when wanting to fool around behind the pyramid bleachers. "You're awfully bossy."

Bill laughed as he covered her up. "Guess that's why I'm the commander, huh?" He flashed her a playful toothy grin. "And don't think for a minute that I'm not above giving you orders. As you previously reminded me, I currently outrank you, Roslin."

Laura gave in and played along, knowing fully that she had nothing to fear from the painfully honorable man. "Point taken, Sir. But aren't you just a little bit cold?"

"Frakking freezing. But I'll be warm soon. We both will," he promised. "Now give me your feet, soldier."

"Yes, Sir. Commander, Sir. Whatever you say, Sir."

Bill moved to the lower part of their make-shift bed. Reaching into the unzipped covers, he took one of Laura's icy feet in his big hands and began rubbing.

Closing her eyes, Laura allowed herself to just enjoy the moment.

She'd always hated wearing shoes, and never met a foot massage she didn't love. William Adama appeared to be an expert at it. His skilled touch, teased feeling back into her toes, and soothed her tired arches. When one foot was actually hot from his ministrations, Bill switched to the other, bringing renewed life where there seemingly was none. Calloused finger tips and strong thumbs kneaded away all soreness, the sensation of warm relief even traveling upward to other parts of her body.

A satisfied moan escaped her throat, making him growl in knowing reply of his proficiency.

"Better?"

"Mmmhmm. I can die happy," she said absently.

Her comment, while said in jest, struck him surprisingly sharp. It was like someone once again had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. Shaking it off, Bill gave Laura one last rub, then dropped her foot and zipped the bag closed on her side. "Okay, but first we find Earth," he said lightly.

"Deal."

In a flash, Bill removed his own boots and socks, before diving under the covers and fully securing their bed closed.

Laura jumped as he put his arms around her middle, pulling her closer to him.

Tentatively, she put her arms around him as well, the action gaining a note of approval from the commander. Apparently Roslin the soldier, had done good. The notion made her smile.

Beneath her touch, he seemed slightly thinner than when she saw him in Sickbay, no doubt a result from his long ordeal. Even so, being hugged by Adama, was what it must feel like to be a teddy bear in a child's tight but tender embrace. While initially cold to the touch, Bill's arms quickly warmed as they continued to encircle her waist, his hands resting at the small of her back.

"I hate to say it, but I'm starting to feel better," Laura admitted.

"Good," Bill replied as he briskly rubbed her spinal column. "Now breathe on me."

She stiffened at the directive. "Say what?"

"Blow on my chest. Your breath will create a pocket of warm air between us."

"I don't recall that being in the Scout handbook."

He cleared his throat. It was obvious that he was embarrassed at the suggestion. "It wasn't. The thought just came to me. It might help speed up the process."

Laura groaned, and pushed away from him as much as she could. "Uh huh."

"Remember, I'm cold too," Bill retorted. "My BDU jacket is your pillow. I just thought–"

"Okay, okay." She slumped against him.

Placing her arms back around the man, Laura was again reminded of his post coma-weakened state. It seemed that there was less of his belly between them, than there should have been. Bill had nearly died, and now was risking exposure himself by caring for her. This was how it was going to be with them. A constant push-pull. The animosity was gone, but the commander still knew how to push her buttons.

Pursing her lips, Laura prepared herself. Inches away from him, she couldn't stop thinking how ridiculous she felt. Shaking her head, Laura backed away and hummed.

Bill stiffened. "It's really no different than warming your hands in winter."

Laura hummed again. "I just hope the press never gets wind of this," she said tightly. In her mind she could see the headline:

 **DEPOSED-PRESIDENT GIVES COMMANDER COLONIAL BLOW-JOB!**

His chest rumbled. "Talking to reporters is your bag, not mine. They won't hear it from me," he promised softly.

Feeling Bill's hand slip beneath her hair to cup her neck, Laura gave into her apprehension as he rubbed away the cold tension. It seemed ludicrous, at first, exhaling air from her lungs onto him, like he was a great big birthday cake. However, before long, the inside of the sleeping bag became almost balmy.

"How's that?"

"Nice."

Bill could feel sleep begin to overtake him, and admittedly, it felt good. Absently, he rubbed circles over Laura's back. Pulling her deeper into himself, Bill sighed as the woman rested her head over his damaged but healing heart.

"It's strong," she told him, taking note of his beating pulse. "You're strong."

"Not bad for an old man, I guess," he drawled before fully going under.

Laura smiled to herself, whispering the words, "Old man, my ass."

With her head tucked beneath his chin, Laura found herself plastered to his wide chest and body. She could feel the softness of Bill's tanks against her cheek, and hear the gentle clink of dog tags with each rise and fall of his breath. Without thinking, Laura burrowed in, eager for more warmth.

Dear Gods, but he felt good.

She'd never been so close to a man. Certainly not with her last lover. Richard. No. They'd never shared such intimacies, even after a heated congress. That had never really been for him. And it had not been for Laura, either. Until now.

She started to compare the two. President Adar, and William Adama. Both were powerful in their own rights, and yet so very different. Laura wondered if they had ever met. Either way, they would have hated each other.

Close to sleep herself, Laura briefly and fancifully, envisioned a fight to the death between the two alpha males. In the style of the Ancients, of course. Naked. Adar had a well-kept body for his age, but he'd never been a terribly physical man. He never would have stood a chance against Commander Adama.

Rocked by such a dream, Laura's eyes flashed open. She could feel her body's response to being so close to Bill. Both of her breasts ached, not from her cancer, but in a good, natural way. And, she noticed, she was also starting to throb in other places as well. For a woman who was dying, it felt incredible to feel so alive.

But it wasn't right. Not now. Not with her circumstances. Probably not ever.

He was asleep. Laura had to wake him, or else something inappropriate was going to happen. She did so, gently, with a hand to his chest. Patting him, she said his name. Bill stirred. In the dim light between them, she could see the very top of his surgical scar, as it peeked out from his tanks. Uncovered and without a bandage, it was angry and red. Though the wound appeared to be healing nicely, the sight of it sobered Laura instantly.

Bill mumbled in his waking.

"Need to turn over," she told him, hoping he heard her amid the fog of slumber.

"Too hot?" he asked, once fully awake.

"Something like that."

Dutifully, Bill opened his arms, allowing Laura room to move just enough so she could change positions. She snuggled in, her back to him now. Laura's shirt rode up a bit, so that now his hands rested on her exposed midriff. It was soft and pleasantly warm. When Bill tugged the hem of her shirt downward, he felt her body clench slightly, and buck against his own. The sound of a muffled giggle did not go unnoticed. "Ticklish?" he guessed out loud.

"Just a little," she replied, feeling the sensation reverberating through her system. "And you?"

"No comment."

"That bad, huh?"

Bill grunted. "I said no comment, Roslin."

Again, she giggled. It was a sound he was growing to adore.

Her back was still chilly, so Bill brought Laura even closer. Wrapping his legs around hers, he held her between his knees, and pressed the soles of his feet to her own. Bill's were decidedly bigger than Laura's, and the idea was to keep her heat from escaping as little as possible.

It was a shame they hadn't met sooner, though Bill supposed a lifetime would not be near enough a duration to get to know a woman such as Laura Roslin. But it would be fun to try. He knew what made her mad. Calling her a school teacher and throwing her in the brig were two good examples. Now it seemed, he wanted to know what pleased her.

Briskly, he rubbed her arms and shoulders, restoring circulation to her upper limbs. Kneading her flesh, Bill could have sworn he heard her coo with delight.

Yes, that pleased her.

Being in such close proximity, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to share an actual bed with Laura Roslin. To lazily make love to her, and later fall asleep and wake in each other's arms. He wanted to see her smile in the morning, and hear the music of her laugh as he tickled her in her most sensitive of places.

In the end, Bill wanted to know Laura– inside and out. Like that of his most cherished of books.

Suddenly, she moved against him, jarring him out of his far away thoughts.

Bowing her head and settling in, she began murmuring something that was intelligible only to her. As Laura's gentle and even cadence continued further, he soon realized that she was praying.

 _It must be comforting to have such faith_ , Bill decided. That had never been for him, but since his brush with death, he'd started to better understand such beliefs people had, more and more.

Perhaps he _had_ been doing more navel gazing than he'd care to admit.

Listening intently, Bill overheard Laura's solemn askance of protection and guidance for their group, that they would successfully find the Tomb of Athena, and eventually Earth. It would not hurt, he supposed, to ask for whatever help was available. When she eventually finished, he found himself silently adding his own oath to hers.

Afterward, they laid together in companionable silence.

Bill could feel that sleep was not far away for Laura. Her body was relaxed now, spooned against his. They fit together perfectly. Beneath the covers, Laura had placed her hands on top of his. He found them to be pleasantly warm, along with the rest of her.

"See? You're as warm as toast, now. My plan is working," he teased at her gently.

"That's not all that seems to be working," she noted. "Are you feeling alright, Commander?"

Bill swallowed, and shifted his lower half away from the gentle curve her backside. He was hoping she would've been too tired to notice. "Sorry."

Laura gave a lady-like chuckle. The man's growing erection had been poking into her for several minutes. She'd been afraid as much would happen, this little exercise of his. The commander's arousal, like hers, had been perfectly natural considering their close circumstances.

"Just try to think of unpleasant thoughts," she offered.

He did, but it wasn't working. If _Mr. Happy_ didn't calm down soon, Adama figured he'd wait until Roslin fell asleep and then excuse himself to let the cold of the night air take care of things.

"It's just that you smell so good," Bill admitted without thinking. Instantly, he regretted his words. It didn't help that the back of her neck was inches from his own face, crying out to be nuzzled.

Laura smiled to herself. She was equally affected by his scent as well. It surrounded her like an inviting cocoon. "How long has it been for you?"

"I'd rather not say."

In truth, it had been nearly two years.

It had been the night before taking command of the Galactica. His son Zak had just died a few months prior, and Bill had been questioning his decision to postpone retirement by rotting out a few more years on yet another creaking battleship. Saul Tigh had convinced him, somehow, to go out on a date with one of his wife's friends. It was predictably horrible, and ended blessedly early– as Ellen's gal pal had turned out to be even more of a lush than she was.

Bill had congratulated himself on dodging that bullet by shooting some pool at one of his favorite halls in Delphi's Meat Packing District. It was there that he met her. Anali. She'd been a sales rep for a defense contractor the Fleet dealt with. Young and darkly beautiful– the quintessential girl from Tauron. A nice girl who took an old man home with her, and did even nicer things to him. Anali's loft had a huge skylight over the bed, affording him a stunning view of the heavens overhead while his lover slept. Laying there, it was then that Bill came to solidify what he'd always seemed to know... that his place was out there, where life supposedly began.

In the morning, he got up, showered and made breakfast. After eating alone in the kitchen while doing the dishes, Bill placed a generous plate of food on Anali's bedside table. He also left a note for the sleeping girl, thanking her for their time together, along with a kiss to her forehead. It was the last Bill ever saw of her.

"I'm sorry." Laura felt foolish for the apology, but what did one say to a man in regard to a dry spell, really?

"S'okay," Bill admitted. Quite literally feeling the need to change the subject, he turned the conversation back to Laura's health and well being. "Did you remember to take your Chamalla earlier?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "Don't worry. I won't be going into withdrawl anytime soon."

"Good." Bill had heard the story of what happened while she was in the brig, and didn't want Laura to have to revisit that again.

"And you? Did you take your medications as well? I imagine Cottle has you on quite a list of antibiotics following surgery."

A corner of Bill's mouth turned up. He had to consciously resist kissing Laura's shoulder. "Yes, Dear."

They both laughed. Such talk made them both feel their ages and conditions, but it felt oddly good and companionable. Almost what it _should_ feel like to be married.

"It's true."

"What is?"

Laura giggled quietly again, amused at their situation. "Billy told me that you gave a rather impassioned speech after deciding to come down here to Kobol. About reuniting the family. He said that since then, you and I have become tagged with being the Parents of the Fleet."

Adama gave the nickname some thought. "Sounds about right."

"It does, doesn't it?" she agreed. "We essentially had a huge fight... about what exactly? Directions to Earth."

"And then you took off," he played along. "With my son, and later my daughter."

Laura's heart tugged at the thought. "But then you followed... eventually. And brought _my_ son with you," she said in speaking of her aide.

"Once catching up with you, I won you back."

"I _let_ you win me back."

"My mistake," Bill conceded. "Either way, we're back together again."

"And now," Laura concluded, "Like most old married couples– I mean, parents– we don't have sex anymore!"

He choked at her words. Bill didn't take her for having such a wry sense of humor. But she did, and he found himself laughing openly at Laura's honest analysis. "You're good, Laura Roslin. Anyone ever tell you that?"

She hummed. "A few times."

He had no doubt of that.

Talk gave way to shared yawns. Muscles loosened. Breathing became slow and rhythmic. And together, they somehow found sleep.

* * *

Gradually, morning came to Kobol, and eventually to its small number of visitors.

Lt. Kara Thrace was the first to rise. When her CAG, Lee Adama, followed suit, he found her grinning like an idiot.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what that's all about," commented the younger Adama, as he stretched his arms over his head. "Bet it's whatever had you talking in your sleep last night. You kept saying the name, 'Anders', over and over."

"Frak off, Apollo."

"Uh huh, just what I thought."

Kara continued to stare off in the distance. She was seated cross-legged, with a pair of military-grade field glasses perched on her booted feet. An open MRE and multi-purpose field utensil sat nearby, along with a metal flask-style canteen of water. "You don't know the half of it."

Lee shook his head. "You'll get bored with this one too. Forget his name. Forget his face. Just plain forget him. Like always. When are you going to learn, Kara?"

"When you grow a brain, moron," the pilot shot back. "Maybe then you'll see what's right in front of you."

"You mean us?" Lee's tone was quiet and serious. Like it or not, he didn't regret admitting to her face that he loved her.

Kara frowned sadly. "No." Pointing across the way of their camp, she indicated the sleeping arrangements of their commander and the currently deposed president. In doing so, she once again began grinning. "It's them."

"What?" puzzled Lee. "Other than the Old Man showing his age and sleeping later than I've ever known him to, I don't see all the excitement."

"Mommy and Daddy made up last night," Kara said of their superiors. "See? They're even spooning!" Cheerily, the young woman handed the captain her binoculars. "It's so cute. I never took the commander to be the type that cuddles, but I swear to the Gods that he's got his arm around Roslin. See the little bump under the covers in front of her? That's gotta be his hand on hers."

Grudgingly, and just to prove Starbuck wrong, Lee looked into the glasses. It was impossible to tell, what with both parties in question zipped into one solitary sleeping bag. Lee fought the urge to flick on the heat vision mode, in order to prove her wrong. Quite frankly, he wasn't so sure he was right, and feared seeing more than he wanted to.

As he continued to watch, Lee thought he saw slight movement from the president. Turning to face his father now, she mouthed words that might have been a good morning greeting. In return, the elder Adama gave her one of his rare smiles before rubbing his face with his hands.

"I'm sure they were just keeping each other warm," Lee assured Kara, and himself. "Like in the field manual."

"Yeah, right. While we were all sleeping, I bet they had hot, make-up sex."

"You're disgusting."

"What? You don't want to see your dad happy?"

"No!" Lee replied too quickly. "I mean, yes, of course. Just not–"

"With Laura Roslin," Kara surmised.

He didn't know what to say. Apollo thought about it, then shook his head. "She's got cancer, Starbuck. She's going to die."

"We're all going to die, Lee. You and I face that every time we get in the cockpit. Hell, all of humanity could be snuffed out at any given moment, thanks to Sharon the Eight, and her toaster buddies. It's been that way for months. I'd say Roslin deserves just as much an opportunity for whatever frakking bit of happiness she can grab in her last days as the rest of us."

"I guess."

"Well, I _know_. I mean, isn't that the point of it all? Why we keep fighting?"

Lee Adama nodded. She was right, as usual. About so many things.

"I just don't want to see him hurt."

Kara patted him on the cheek. "I know you don't." She knew full well how much Lee loved his father. One of the things that often made her so mad at him was his seeming lack of emotion regarding the Old Man. Or others, for that matter. Zak had been different in that way. When he loved someone, he loved them. There was no guessing.

She missed that. So much.

It was what drew her to Samuel T. Anders. Not to mention that he was as gorgeous as all get out.

Kara closed her eyes and silently prayed for help in getting back to Caprica to rescue him. She'd continue to work on the president, and even make an appeal to the commander if need be. If it meant making a deal with the Cylons, Kara vowed that she would not break her promise to Sam.

Finishing her prayer, Kara slapped her hands on her knees and opened her eyes. The Parents were still looking all gooey and friendly at each other, and Lee was turning green. Kara put her bad-ass mask back on, and stuck her tongue out at him before getting up to walk across the camp.

"Hey, Madam Prez!" she called as she neared the leaders' tarp. "I gotta pee. Wanna come join me in going to the Little Girls'?"

Laura Roslin sat up, putting on her glasses. "Now that you mention it, yes. That sounds like a plan, Lt. Thrace. Strength in numbers and all that," she agreed cheerfully. Turning to the somewhat embarrassed man laying next to her, she added, "Right, Bill?"

"Of course, Laura," he replied while rising to a sitting position. To Kara, he gave a tight nod. "Good to see you, Starbuck."

"Sir."

Dutifully, Bill unzipped their joint sleeping bag so that Laura could exit. The cool air of the morning assaulted them both, causing them to laugh at what seemed to be an inside joke between the two of them. Laura redressed in her boots and layers of outerwear, then joined Kara to go off in search of an appropriate place to take care of business.

The commander stood and watched as the two women walked together, chatting quietly along the way. The sight made him smile.

Lee joined Bill, once Laura & Kara were out of sight.

"I see the two of you had a little slumber party last night."

"The president was cold. I figured–"

"Yeah, so did I," Lee replied, all too quickly.

"We've made amends," Bill stated.

"Good." The young captain watched as his father shrugged into his own jacket and began tidying up his and Laura's little part of the camp. In doing so, Lee couldn't help but notice a declining bulge in the commander's pants, and wondered just to what degree those amends had been met.

"You think we can too?"

"Make amends?" Lee countered as the elder Adama dug though a pack in search of suitable MRE breakfast provisions. "I thought we already did that yesterday."

Bill did his best to hide his pride in the man before him, making busy work with a large canteen of water and a pouch of coffee. Before heading over to the still burning campfire to heat the H2O, he pocketed an individually wrapped sachet of Aerilon Breakfast tea that he'd packed with the thought of Roslin in mind.

"You got me there, Son."

* * *

"You okay, Madam?"

"Yes, of course Lieutenant. Why do you ask?"

Starbuck grimaced as she paced, side-arm in hand and at the ready. She had to keep moving or else she was going to lose control over her overly-full bladder, right then and there. "I couldn't help but hear you talking to yourself."

"Oh," Laura replied after a beat. "Sorry. Just a bit of self-encouragement."

"Not much for being in nature?" Kara questioned further, towards the direction of the bushes.

The president closed her eyes and smiled, remembering by-gone days. "On the contrary. My father was a botany professor at AU, and our family spent many a summer camping in the mountains. It was wonderful." _Before it wasn't_ , Laura winced as she thought of her mother's own cancer. "Back then, however, we didn't have to worry about getting picked off by Centurions while we peed."

"S'pose not."

The young pilot danced in place, until, eventually, she heard the welcoming sigh of success from Ms. Roslin. Upon seeing Laura return to the small clearing, Kara practically thrust her gun into the woman's empty hands before finding her own shrub to take a piss behind.

"Am I holding this right?" Laura called after her.

At that point, Kara Thrace didn't give a shit. It just felt good to finally be able to let go of her bladder. "Gods, but that's better than sex!" she loudly admitted. Squatting, she could not see the president, but heard her laugh.

"Indeed."

A moment later, and her mission accomplished, Kara re-joined Laura, who more than willingly returned the gun she'd been holding, back to her more adept hands. Together, the two women walked in companionable silence back to their camp. Both, wanting to ask the other, direct and to-the-point questions.

Kara went first. "So, how was your night with Commander Adama?"

Flashes of memory, less than an hour old, came upon Laura.

Bill's sweetly whispered bidding of good morning... droplets of dew that shone like diamonds in his enviably thick and weather-proof hair... the feel of his morning wood... and their shared laugh over his ongoing predicament...

"It was quite nice, actually. We made," Laura paused, searching for the right word. "Amends."

"Oh," Kara replied with a slight frown when her superior said nothing more. The Mother of the Fleet wasn't telling any dirt, though her body language said otherwise.

"However, I must confess something." Laura smiled playfully. "He talks in his sleep."

"Did he say anything juicy?"

Laura shrugged. "He spoke Tauron, so I don't know. It took awhile to get used to, but eventually I found him– I mean, his _words_ , to be quite soothing and rhythmic."

For once in her life, Kara Thrace didn't bite. She didn't dare. Besides, the fifty shades of pink that colored her face said all the words that filled her head at that very moment.

They continued to walk, again in silence. Finally, Laura could wait no longer. Mother issues or not, she had to ask of what she needed to know from Kara. "Returning to Caprica- it's personal for you. Am I right?"

"Uh, yeah! Sir, if you'd seen those farms– those frakking baby-making farms! I was there. I think they took one of my damn ovaries! And if you'd seen it yourself, you'd wanna go back and get all of our people. The women _and_ the men."

Laura stopped in her tracks, and in doing so, pulled on Kara's arm. Spinning the younger woman around, she looked her over carefully with narrowed eyes. "Show me your tags, Lieutenant."

"My what?"

"You heard me. Show me your _tags_!"

Taken aback by the president's firmness, Kara slowly pulled the ball chain out from beneath her fleece C'Bucs jacket. Cowed, she chewed her lower lip while staring at her muddy boots.

Laura grasped the tarnished metal in her delicate fingers. "Where's the other one?"

Kara looked up, her eyes big as saucers. "The other one?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Laura began. She turned away from the blonde, needing to get some distance so she didn't upset either one of them. Hands on her hips, Laura paced a wide spot on their trail. "For months now, I've interacted on a daily basis with the military. I know the way they sound, from the officers, to the enlisted. It's gotten so routine that I almost don't even notice it anymore, but you people, with your dog tags, you jingle around Galactica about as much as a Picon fortune-teller."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It used to grate on my nerves, but now, it is almost comforting. I spent all night laying beside Commander Adama- and each time he'd move even the slightest, I'd hear in my subconscious, those two bits of brass rubbing together."

Trying not to melt into a puddle of softness, Kara remained silent.

"Captain Apollo, Helo, Chief, and the Marines have that same sound as they move around our camp. All of them, except for you." Laura approached her again, and fingered the Colonial-issued identification around Kara's neck. "Since you returned from Caprica with the arrow, you haven't made a sound when you walk. I know that now. Where's your other tag, Starbuck?"

"Um, I lost it?"

"Try again."

Kara sighed. "Whoever said you didn't have the balls to be president was frakking wrong!"

Laura gave a half smile at that. "Damn straight."

"Okay. Here's the deal," Kara laid it out. "I gave my other tag to someone, as a promise."

Laura nodded. She'd figured such. "What's his name?"

"Sammy."

"And he's special to you."

Kara blushed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only just so much," Laura replied quietly as she chanced hugging the pilot. "Starbuck, you know we can't go back just for one person. If it worked that way, we never would have left the Colonies. And then where would we be?"

Secretly reveling in the older woman's motherly gesture, Kara shed a single enormous tear before backing away one step. In doing so, she couldn't help but notice that Laura continued to hold onto her shoulders. "I know it. Being back there just brought up so many memories. Surely you left someone behind that you love."

Bittersweet memories stabbed at Laura's heart. Her parents and sisters, all of them gone before the Fall. And then the one that didn't matter anymore, lost in the end.

"I didn't even have a cat," Laura confessed.

"Well, that's just sad," stated Kara. "I thought all spinster school marms did."

"Not this one. I didn't have the time. Didn't think it'd be fair to keep one and not be around to be with it."

Kara huffed, then rubbed away another tear that threatened to betray her. "Same here. I always wanted a dog."

Such a notion didn't surprise Laura. She imagined the big-hearted girl with a rescue mutt from the humane society. "I _do_ know what you are feeling, Starbuck. If I did have someone back there, I would want to do everything I could to save them, even if it meant moving Olympus itself."

"I know, Madam."

The two women continued on the way back to their camp. Gradually the sights and sounds of humanity became more and more apparent as they neared. Kara's pyramid ball from Sam, was being tossed by Chief to Billy, who caught it rather haphazardly. Helo fussed over the Eight. Zarek held court over his goons.

Catching sight of the Adama men, who stood together by the campfire, Laura halted Kara while they were still out of sight from the group.

"Last night I spoke to Commander Adama about your plan." When Lieutenant Thrace began glowing, Laura made sure to keep her words as neutral as possible, so best to not get her hopes too high. "And while he did not seem that receptive to the idea, I've decided a rescue mission is at least worth consideration."

"Really?"

Laura smiled wanly as she felt her heart break a bit. "Once all of this is behind us- you, Commander Adama, and myself, will meet to discuss an action and feasibility plan. So get things in writing, Starbuck. I expect to see a proposal from you within a month."

Kara nodded. "Hell, I've already started plotting things out in my head. I'll get it to you on paper by next week, Madam!"

"Good," replied Laura. In truth, she hoped that she herself had a week. To live. Despite a relative good night's sleep, the foray to Kobol had taken its toll on her body. Laura could feel it in her bones. The cancer inside her was winning the fight.

Kara looked on as the president remained rooted in place on the trail mouth. The woman was bracing herself for the public. It was a feeling she knew too well.

Watching Bill and his son, together, made Laura smile. The two were tending to a battered pot of coffee, which wafted on the air tantalizingly. They could easily be heard as they argued and picked at each other. It was adorable.

"I always thought you and the captain–"

"What?!" Kara scoffed. "Me and Apollo? Frak no! Literally. He's more like my pain in the ass brother."

Her mouth forming a small O, Laura internally giggled at the blonde's exaggerated protest. "Very well, Liuetenant. Let's get these boys in gear so we can find our way home."

* * *

As Lee continued to fill him in on the events leading up to their current place in the mission, Bill kept watch over the camp. Namely, his focus was on Tom Zarek, the reformed terrorist; and his crew. Bill had a feeling the bastard was up to more than innocently helping Laura in her quest, and he didn't like it one damn bit.

Zarek matched Adama's glare with one of his own, from across the way. Grudgingly, he had drunk from the warming brew served to him, but not before he had Meier act as his food taster and have some first.

Movement from the trees shifted Bill's attention, along with that of Lee's, to the return of the two women missing from the group.

"There they are!" Lee called out. "We were gettin' worried," he added teasingly as Laura and Kara made their way through the camp.

"What do you hear, Starbuck?"

Kara smiled at her commanding officer as she moved to join him in his outstretched arms. "Nothing but the rain, Sir."

Bill gripped her tightly in a hug. Interrupted the day before, by the appearance of the other Sharon Valerii, he took full advantage of embracing the young woman he considered a daughter. It was more than good to have her back in the fold.

Her feelings mutual, Kara always felt such safety and love in the elder Adama's arms. She held on to the man, finally realizing the fact that she'd almost lost him to the bullets of her former friend. If such a thing had happened, it would have been like losing Zak all over again. The thought scared her tremendously, and caused her guard to return.

Ever the soldier, Kara's eyes darted around the camp. "Is that my ball?"

"Yeah," Lee cooly replied.

"Who said that it could be played with?"

"It's a pyramid ball, Kara. It deserves to be played with, not slept with- like some kind of doll. Besides, Chief was looking like he was going to push over a tree if he had to look at Boomer's twin for one more minute longer, and Dee says Keikeya can always use more exercise."

Quite pissed, and unable to do more while in the presence of her superiors, Kara shot Lee a dirty look. To which, he responded with a subtly raised middle finger.

Making eye-contact with Bill, Laura bit her lip in amusement of his children.

"Your tea, Madam President," Bill offered, while passing her a mug and winking slyly in acknowledged response. He had a feeling she'd been witness to such displays ever since Starbuck joined in with the Kobol expedition.

"Thank you, Commander Adama." Laura gripped the mug with two hands, and sipped at the liquid eagerly. "The warmth is much appreciated."

Bill gave a small, but noticeable bow. "Anytime."

A hushed, awkward silence fell over the quartet.

Eventually, a rosy-cheeked Billy Keikeya joined in the fray, anxious to have finished the game of catch with Chief Tyrol, and to check on the condition of his boss. Billy adored Laura, and despite the difficult journey, he was grateful to have been asked by the commander to make the trip after all.

The dynamic of the group having changed, Kara turned to the senior Adama, who still was holding her tight. "Sir–"

"Is this about going back to Caprica?"

He knew her too well. "Yes and no," she replied.

The subject had multiple implications. Kara thought about broaching her rescue plan with the commander, but decided that things had been best left with Roslin. It was far too important an action to risk pushing things too far. Inwardly, she patted herself on the back about that. Perhaps she was maturing... perish the thought.

"I want to apologize for disobeying you."

"Don't need to," Bill replied softly. Tears welled in his eyes, causing a similar reaction in hers. "All was forgiven when I knew you were safe, and even before. You should know that."

"I do," Kara admitted.

"In actuality, you were operating under special order of the president. Under Colonial authority, Roslin outranks _me_. So whether I like it or not, what she says goes."

"Think I'll get some kind of medal out of the deal?"

Bill gave her a squeeze. "Don't push your luck, kiddo."

Through her bangs, Kara couldn't help but notice her commanding officer's watchful gaze over the president. His severe features softened, and the corners of his mouth were actually turned up. Now and again, the woman in question would glance over while speaking with her aide, and a similar look would be on her own face.

"Speaking of Roslin," Kara began casually. "I see you both survived last night."

"Barely."

It had seemed the most natural thing- rolling over to find the woman next to him. Upon hearing his voice, Laura spooned herself to him, and foggily asked for five more minutes of sleep. It was admittedly good weather for such an endeavor, so Bill gave in and joined her for another ten. Had Kara Thrace not interrupted their pillow talk by showing up at their threshold like an overly-eager puppy, Bill suspected that he and Laura, more than likely, would have remained in their makeshift bed. The way to Earth be damned.

The lieutenant laughed, slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden. All jokes aside, something tangible _had_ happened between her CO and the president, and Kara began to regret wading into it all. "Don't tell me- she talks in her sleep?"

Grateful for the out, Bill Adama rubbed his face and grinned beneath his hand. "That would have been interesting, but no. She snores."

"Really? A delicate thing like her?"

With an amused huff, the commander recalled being awakened at one point in the night, by a very un-Roslin sound. At the time, he had thought it was quite charming. In the light of day, however, he began to realize his judgement may have been a bit clouded.

"Like a frakking buzz saw."

* * *

THE ASTRAL QUEEN

Tom Zarek stared at the silent phone in his makeshift office, and frowned.

It had been exactly a week since the path to Earth had been found on Kobol, and little much had seemed to change for the terrorist-turned-representative.

Other than the fact that his best friend, Meier, was now dead. Not that Laura Roslin cared.

Since being reinstated as President of the Twelve Colonies, the woman was no more inclined to return his calls than in weeks prior. And after all that he'd done for her.

Zarek really had thought he'd made inroads with Roslin. She'd relied on him in a time of great need, and he had been there to provide just the right muscle that her Captain Apollo was too squeaky-clean to be able to give. Tom believed he'd struck a genuine kinship with the redhead. Laura wasn't nearly as pure as she let on to the general public, and he liked that about her. He'd grown to think she appreciated him too, and that she maybe even liked him for something more than being just an associate.

But now, he knew that to be untrue.

She'd thrown her lot in with _Zeus_.

After being shut out of the opportunity to take part in the magical mystery exhibit that was known as the Tomb of Athena, it had taken two more days of slogging in the rain and mosquitoes to return to the their landing site. In that time, the Sagittarrian couldn't help but bitterly observe the coziness that had developed between Commander Adama and the president. Apparently, all had been forgiven, between the leaders.

So why couldn't _he_ be absolved of his own past misdeeds?

Honestly, Zarek could not imagine what a beautiful lady such as Laura Roslin saw in William Adama. Other than respectability, what else was there but bad skin and a sour personality?

And it was downright disgusting, the way they acted together.

Adama fussed over Roslin, begging her to let him call his Raptor in for a closer extraction point, just so that she wouldn't have to exert so much energy in her cancerous state. The defiant woman had steadfastly refused, saying it would be far too dangerous considering the terrain, and then proceeded to cluck and coo over the frakker's own recent and so-called frailties.

 _The Parents of the Fleet._

 _Yeah, right._

The two deserved each other.

#END#


End file.
